


Crazy In Love

by le_chat_vilain



Category: Black Sails
Genre: NSFW, Smut, vaneeleanor, who doesn't love a first time?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5057323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_chat_vilain/pseuds/le_chat_vilain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every couple has a first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy In Love

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously NSFW. Sorry it took so long and also sorry it’s so short! I wanted to go into it more but I’m a bit drunk and I’m super tired, so hopefully copping out and taking the abstract route is acceptable! Also, I kind of proofed it but…well just try and ignore any typos in there for now, I’ll do it properly eventually. Musical inspiration and title come frome the Sofia Karlberg cover of Crazy In Love (The 50sog version, because the only decent thing about that movie was the soundtrack)

“I don’t need your protection, Charles!” she spits at him, with the fury of a hurricane and the venom of a snake in her inflection. “I had it under control!”

He cocks his head to one side and raises a brow at her before shrugging and turning away, taking a swig of rum to hide the smirk he can no longer suppress.

“Never said you did,” he retorts, turning to face her once more, leaning on the edge of her desk to watch her wiping the blood from her lip.

“Then what are you doing here?”

The question’s valid but the answer; while he could put it in words so simple that even a child could understand, they’d be insufficient beyond measure.

“Well?” she demands, catching his eyes with hers, drilling into him with a glare.

For a moment he considers trying to explain it, the infuriating and irresistible magnetic pull that draws him to her, that’s always drawn him to her. The way that like it or not, he was compelled to protect her even though he was more than aware that she had never been in need of it. The way he saw in her a kindred spirit, a rival, a partner, an equal beyond compare. Without breaking the line of sight between her eyes and his, he stands and swaggers slowly towards her, stopping a mere six inches before her.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t worked it out?” he asks her in a murmur, eyes dropping to her lips, jaw clenching as he fights the urge to taste them. “Come on, Eleanor, you’re a smart girl.”

He takes another step forward and when she doesn’t yield any ground he knows. They’re so close to each other that he can feel her warmth on his skin, his whole body vibrating with her proximity. Reaching up, he gently tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear, hand lingering. Their eyes lock once more and unable to resist the devastating strength of the spell she has him under, he slips his hand into her hair and pulls her lips to his.

She shoves him away and swiftly strikes him on the cheek, chest heaving, anger in her eyes that soon gives way to confusion. Then she reaches out and taking a fist full of his shirt, yanks him back to her. This was the girl he knew, forever needing to do things on her terms and hers alone.

The kiss is other worldly; two souls trying desperately to consume one another, fusing irreversibly in the process. A collision of cataclysmic proportions, years in the making and worth every second of the wait. For so long he’d been circling, day by day becoming ever more trapped in her current, drifting closer and closer to the centre of the whirlpool until finally he’d succumbed, drowning in her gladly.

Delicate yet strong fingers tear open his shirt, scratching his chest all the way down to unfasten his pants. He responds with a growl and she grins into their still unbroken kiss. Her hands glide over his shoulders, and fingers knotting in his hair, she tugs his head back, taking his lip between her teeth gingerly as they finally part.

For a brief moment they stare at one another, panting, waiting for the other to make the next move; he takes the chance, gripping her waist and lifting her, kissing her again deeply, even savagely as he slams her against the wall and her legs wrap around his hips. She bunches her skirt up as he tears away her undergarments, and when he finally sheathes himself in her, she turns her face to the ceiling with a moan as his breath catches in his throat.

Running his lips up her throat, he kisses along her jawline as he loses himself in her, in the way she feels like no one else, moves like no one else; the way the sensations pulsate throughout his entire being and the way her whimpers and sighs pull at the strings of his soul. She digs her nails into his back and drags them across his skin as they move together faster, their rhythm perfect, bodies fitting together and rolling against each other like they were made for one another. When he spills inside her the shiver even feels different, it runs deeper, lasts longer, completely discombobulates him and takes him to another realm altogether; a high more euphoric than any opiate could grant, and he knows he’ll forever be on her hook.

She takes his face in her hands and rests her forehead against his, her legs shaking and breath ragged. They ride out the wave together, so engrossed in the feeling that neither can bring themselves to speak because there simply exists no words adequate enough to fill the air in that moment. He sinks to his haunches slowly and she comes to rest in his lap, knees on the floor either side of him, hands still clutching his cheeks and bodies shuddering periodically as the ripples wash over them. He cups his hand over one of hers, their eyes meet again, and he knows. He knows she’ll be the death of him, that he’s hopelessly enthralled by her in every way and that happy endings never come from an addiction so catastrophic.

Yet for the life of him he can’t find the will to care. If this was to be his downfall, if she was to be the thing that would unravel him and tear apart the fibre of his very being then so be it. Though he would never admit it he was unequivocally, irrevocably in love with her, as hopelessly today as he had been all those years ago, watching that thirteen year old girl brazenly stomping along the beach that she would go on to rule; the queen of thieves and his one and only weakness.

She was the siren on the rocks, luring him to his end, and her song had only just begun.


End file.
